Your Life in Rewind
by dear-broken-heart
Summary: [Post Rent] Roger battles his emotions, receiving insight from an unlikely source.
1. Just Smile

**A/N: So I've been writing a lot of one shots lately, and I'll admit it, this too was going to be a one-shot, but I think I could go a little more in depth on it. No real idea of how long yet, but not too long. It focuses on Roger, Post-Rent. Quick Background info, it's about 6 months after the storyline of the show ends. Mimi died 2 months after she was found in the park, after a relapse into drugs. There are a couple O/C's but they'll be introduced, so it shouldn't be too confusing. And, I think that's all the explanation you'll need…hope it's not too boring! **

**Disclaimer: All original characters and RENT are copyright of Jonathan Larson. **

Roger stared out the window. He was sitting in the same spot he sat everyday for hours on end. He knew he spent too many hours moping, he knew it wasn't going to change anything, but it was like a force was stopping him. He felt numb. He didn't start dying when he got AIDS. He'd been dying forever. The drug addiction didn't phase him, it just convinced him he was an even more terrible person. He was the epitome of Bohemian failure. He'd succumbed to his own evils and chosen rags not because he despised riches, but because it was easy. He stood for nothing, he believed in nothing. Except death that is.

The heavy metal door of the loft opened quickly, Roger looked up, but when he saw it was Collins he returned to his daze.

"Roger, Life Support meeting in five, you're not ditching this week." Collins threw a paper bag down on the counter and emptied the essentials into the cupboard. Stoli, generic beer, and the week old free loaf of bread from the bakery down the street. It was on the verge of molding, but no one would end up eating it anyway.

"Next week Collins, I'm not in the mood." Roger didn't break his gaze from the parking meter across the street.

"Listen, every week I come over here, and do everything short of physically picking you up and carrying you to the meeting. You've missed three in a row."

Roger just sighed. He wasn't budging on the issue.

"Fine, wallow in your pity. Let Mark baby you. But take it from someone who is just like you. Dying just like you, but alive just like you too. Sitting around isn't going to solve anything, but kill you faster." Collins walked over and was staring him straight in the eye. Not his usual happy demeanor, but he was sick and tired of Roger and his bullshit. He stared Roger down for another minute before giving up. "I guess I was wrong. You've watched two girlfriends die. Two. And you plan on dying just like them, not of any disease, but of self pity," he spat, but retreated, shaking his head. He headed for the door, tossing the empty paper bag in the direction of the garbage can on the way.

Roger put his head in his hands. He was the enemy of life.

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The sun burned his eyes now that it wasn't being filtered through the dirty windows of the loft. Roger stood outside the community center, location of the weekly Life Support meetings. Collins' guilt trip had hit him right in the heart. His mind went back to the memories of four months before, when he learned of Mimi's death. That's right, 'learned'.

Mimi returned to the streets not long after her 'recovery.' She was victim of addiction. She didn't have someone like Mark to pick up the pieces like Roger had when he had fallen to the same evils. The truth was, it was because Roger never helped her. He'd failed her, and now he'd spent the past four months silently killing himself. Not with drugs. Not with a blade. Not with alcohol. Just pure emotion.

He felt nauseous taking the first few steps into the community center. He didn't know if he could tolerate hearing other people's problems, and he sure as hell wasn't going to spill his soul to others to use as 'therapy' for their own problems. He considered taking those two steps right back out the door, but it was too late.

"Roger!" It was Collins, right on cue. Realist extraordinaire. "Come here, there's someone I want you to meet." Guess there was no easing back into the therapy thing.

The group was gathered around the usual circle of chairs. They were all standing and talking in small groups, the meeting obviously hadn't started yet.

"This is Savannah." Collins gestured to the young woman whom he was standing with. She looked young, maybe 20 or 21. Skinny, brown curly hair. Quite pretty. She held out her hand, greeting Roger. He timidly shook her hand. He was scared Collins was turning Life Support into a singles gathering, and Roger really wasn't in the mood.

"It's nice to meet you," Savannah cheerily stated as they both pulled away from the handshake. An awkward silence commenced.

Seeing that Savannah wasn't going to explain the introduction, Collins began. "Savannah has a son, Jacob."

Roger just nodded, he didn't see where this was going.

Savannah picked up the explanation, "Jacob is interested in music, guitar especially. Thomas told me about you when he met Jacob last week. He said you're a guitar teacher. I've been looking everywhere for a male guitar teacher in the area, you'd be surprised how hard that is. Jacob doesn't have any male role models, so I figured the best way would be if he could find that in a subject he enjoys so much, music. I was hoping maybe you'd be interested in teaching lessons." Savannah smiled, waiting for a reply after her lengthy explanation.

Roger looked over at Collins. He'd been tricked. "One moment," Roger replied, pulling Collins to the side.

"Sure, I'll go get Jacob, he's right down the hall in the art room." She left and headed towards the hallway.

"What the hell?" Roger whispered in a harsh tone.

"What man, I'm trying to help you!" Collins replied defensively, Roger looked angry.

"Listen, I do not need you to try and set me up with some chick by telling her I'll teach her son guitar. A, I don't teach anything. B, I'm done with dating. I'm done with love, sex, heartbreak, all of it!" He shoved Collins back a little, and headed towards the door.

"That's not why I told her that, I want you to meet Jacob!" Collins tried to stop Roger. However, it turned out to be unnecessary as he almost ran into Savannah and Jacob heading down the hallway towards the door.

Savannah smiled as Roger came quickly to a stop. There was no escape. "This is Jacob," she rubbed the young boys shoulders, giving him a loving squeeze. The boy was smiling, and looked genuinely happy to meet Roger. He looked young, maybe nine, but that seemed too old to be the son of someone as young as Savannah, but he definitely had her eyes. However it was obvious what Collins meant by their introduction now. Jacob's thin face looked gaunt, and his cheeks were sunken. He was a young boy suffering from the same disease Roger was facing, but there was one sharp difference. Jacob was smiling.

**A/N: Just as a clarification if anyone's confused about the end, and how Roger instantly 'knew' Jacob had AIDS: hollow, sunken cheeks are a side-effect of a lot of the AIDS medications.**


	2. On the Lie

**A/N: **I hope the reasoning here makes sense, anyway, we'll see. Think of this as the calm before the storm (well, the boring before the interesting…haha)

* * *

"Hi," Roger meekly replied. He was sensing this was going to become a very uncomfortable conversation very quickly.

"My mom says you might be my guitar teacher!" Jacob's smile beamed even brighter.

Roger was backed up against a wall. He saw Savannah's expression, it was the same as Jacob's. As for Collins, he looked disappointed. Collins was disappointed in him just like everyone else in is life. Roger couldn't bring himself to let down a little kid, not with all the times he'd been let down. "Yeah, Savannah, errr, your mother and I have to work out a time," he replied, basically lying through his teeth. He couldn't believe what he was signing himself up for.

"Yes!" Jacob jumped up and down. Roger sighed, "Oh what fun this is going to be," he whispered to himself through pursedlips.

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The life support meeting was long, literally. It ran half an hour over its usual hour. Roger didn't mind at first, though. As people shared their sob stories, he found himself gaining that self confidence that maybe his life wasn't as bad as he thought, just maybe. That was until Savannah talked.

Savannah had been attending the meetings for several weeks now, however this was the first week she was sharing her story. She held back the tears forming in her eyes, but never once let one fall. Savannah's story was almost tragic. She in fact did not have AIDS, and wasn't an HIV carrier. However, her 9 year old son had been infected 2 and a half years before in a horrific accident.

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Jacob had fallen off the swings at school one day. He was taken to the hospital directly from school. His knee was bent in such a way when he fell, that it was scraped almost to the bone as he landed. He was transported by ambulance to the nearest hospital and quickly bandaged up.

5 months after the incident, Jacob had fallen ill with an almost fatal case of pneumonia. The doctors did a full blood work-up when they couldn't find what had caused a perfectly healthy boy to fall ill with pneumonia in the early fall. During an extensive blood workup, tests uncovered startling news. Jacob was a carrier of the HIV virus, and his T-Cell count was already falling. Savannah spent days at Jacob's bedside as she was asked lists of questions about her history. The doctors assumed Savannah was a carrier before the tests were yet to confirm such accusations, and even though they knew the timetable didn't match up.

With her negative test results in one hand, and her young, ill son's hand in the other, a startling connection was made by a young, introspective doctor. 5 months before an incident report had been recorded; an EMT was suspended for examining a patient without gloves, and one comment on the citation sheet noted a possible open wound on the EMT in question's hand. A month later the same EMT was let go for not disclosing her HIV status. While the results were "inconclusive" as the doctors told her, after months of research, long phone calls, and constant questioning, there were no other clues. No matter what happened however, her son was never going to be the same bright-eyed little boy anymore.

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As she finished, Savannah apologized for causing the meeting to run so late. Tissues dabbed eyes, and feet shuffled. No one wanted to leave on such a sad note. There was dead silence as a little boy walked into the room, and walked up behind Savannah. It was Jacob.

"Can we go yet mom? The lady in the art room says I have to go before I kill another tree," he whispered in his mother's ear, but the entire group could hear in the dead silence. His dirty blonde hair had specks of blue, red, and green paint in it, and there was a line of orange paint down the side of his face to match.

The group let out a light chuckle as frowns turned to weak smiles. The meeting was adjourned with the usual "See you next week" speech as everyone returned the chairs back to their linear form.

Savannah sent Jake back to the art room to pick up his paintings and drawings. Roger was talking with Collins as Savannah walked up. Collins excused himself and walked over to talk with an old friend from the group, a sly smile on his face. Roger made another mental note to get back at Collins as soon as they got out of there, like he had forgotten the other six.

"I have to apologize about earlier, I didn't really tell the whole truth," Savannah wrung her hands, checking if Jacob was walking back. "Jacob's had over three guitar teachers this month alone, and every single one has only lasted for one day," Savannah checked a last time to see if Jacob was coming. "Every teacher sees him and instantly labels him as the kid with AIDS. They're all scared to teach him, they seem to think they'll somehow get it." Savannah smiled a little, it was her defense against the pain.

Roger just returned the same fake see-through smile, biting his tongue as hard as he could as the conversation continued.

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"There you are!" Mark shouted as Roger opened the heavy metal door of the loft, leading Collins in.

"I told you he was going to call the cops if we didn't get back soon," Collins joked, shoving Roger a little.

"How did you get him out of here?" Mark questioned Collins, who went straight for the worn out couch.

"A good ol' guilt trip," Collins sighed as he put his head back and rested his hat over his eyes.

"Do you think that's a good idea?" Mark asked Collins in a loud whisper.

"I'm in the room, you know!" Roger interjected as he slammed down the glass of water he was just about to drink. The plastic cup hit the wooden table with a hollow thud, as the water splashed up over the sides. "Why the hell does everyone think it's their job to organize my life all the time?" Roger left for the back bedroom in his usual drama queen huff.

"Just remind him about Monday at seven if I'm not around before then." Collins stood up and put his hat back on his head and made his way towards the door. "Bye Mark."

"Wait, what are you talking about Collins?" Mark asked in his usual 'over attentive mother' tone.

"Oh, don't worry," Collins opened the door of the loft. "He'll know what you mean." The sly smile returned to Collins' face.


End file.
